


Safer

by EdnaV



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Angst, Ficlet, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, POV Aziraphale (Good Omens), Podfic Available, Post-Scene: St James's Park 1862 (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26961253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdnaV/pseuds/EdnaV
Summary: It’s better like this,thought Aziraphale.He will be safer.After the fight in St James’s Park, a too short and bittersweet reunion.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 26
Kudos: 80





	Safer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [charlottemadison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/charlottemadison/gifts).



> Inspired by [this fanart](https://ednav.tumblr.com/post/631494000187260928/charlottemadison42-mxgicdave-a-bittersweet) linked by Charlotte Madison, author of some of my favourite fics.
> 
> Once again, thank you to nemnemz, the most wonderful and patient beta!

_ It’s better like this,  _ thought Aziraphale.  _ He will be safer. _

_ He will be safer. _

He’d spent the past two hours walking at the fastest pace he could manage without losing his dignity, trying to be furious and incensed, or at least mildly upset; but any trace of anger had subsided by the time he’d left St James’s Park.

He’d reminded himself that it was an outlandish request -- Holy Water -- what if Gabriel went through the receipts? What if he sent Uriel to check? Or, even worse, Sandalphon? But he’d ended up being honest with himself, eventually: it was not the thought of Heaven that scared him. It was that the idea of losing Crowley terrified him. Losing his-- his friend.

_ Friend. That’s the word. Not a step further, Principality,  _ he reminded himself.  _ Don’t be stupid. _

Aziraphale was perfectly aware of the impression he gave. A soft-spoken gentleman, well dressed, slightly odd but still perfectly respectable. The kind of person that gets away with almost anything in a society based on appearances as long as they’re discreet. He was also aware of Crowley’s public persona: outlandish, daring, devil-may-care.

The problem was, the Devil might’ve cared to know what his prized agent on Earth was doing with an angel, and if he didn’t like the answer, Crowley would’ve liked what followed even less.

_ It’s for the best,  _ Aziraphale told himself for the fiftieth time.  _ What choices do we have, really? I could give him the Holy Water, and live in fear of a desperate gesture. I could keep things as they are, and put him at risk. If we’re apart, he won’t need to hide. He won’t need a suicide pill. He will be safe. Safer. I will lose him, but only up to a point.  _

He realised that, while his mind was busy fretting and worrying, his feet had taken him back to the pond in St James’s Park. The winter sun was setting, and the weather had taken a turn for the worst. He was suddenly glad that his corporation could feel the cold air -- it was more comforting than the frost that seemed to be taking over his soul.

He took in a deep breath.  _ Maybe it will snow. It would be good. Maybe I will watch the children and their mock battles. Maybe I will see a girl “accidentally” losing her glove and her beloved returning it, and maybe I will even bless them. Maybe... _

“Back already, angel?”

Crowley’s voice startled him. He was slouching on the bench behind their usual meeting place, any pretence of bravado replaced by a weariness that could not be hidden behind dark glasses.

_ Get away. Get away as fast as you can. If you stay, you won’t be able to leave him, and he won’t be safe, and... _

But Crowley seemed to read his thoughts. He got up from the bench and came closer -- closer than they’d ever been in a long time, even closer than they’d been in the baths in Rome, so close that Crowley’s body was shielding him from the wind.

“I promise, Aziraphale. I won’t ask you again.” His voice was grave. “We’ll be-- we’ll find another way to be-- safe. I will-- if you want, I could--”

“Yes. I’m afraid we have to--” 

“Don’t be. There’s no-- there will be no reason to be afraid. We’ll be fine.”

“Crowley.”

“I know.”

“It’s not for--”

“I know. It’s for both of us. You’ve always been good at protecting people, do you think I forgot--”

Aziraphale didn’t even realise that he’d moved even closer to Crowley, that he’d grabbed Crowley’s overcoat, that he was about to throw himself in Crowley’s arms. He didn’t even realise that the cold drops on his cheeks were not just the first snow.

Crowley did.

He held Aziraphale’s head high, so they could look into each other’s eyes.

“Don’t worry, angel. We’re going to make it through this,” he whispered.

“But not--”

“One day. I promise.”

Aziraphale hung his head. He didn’t care for the tears, he didn’t care to be seen by passersby, he didn’t care for dignity; all he could think of was  _ Crowley. Crowley,  _ and  _ don’t leave. I won’t make it. You’re my friend. My world. My love.  _

He looked for words that could take everything back to the way it was.

“I should-- should-- try better,” he stammered. “Keep us--”

“And that’s what you’re doing. You’re keeping us safe,” said Crowley, softly. “And we’re going to be safe. One day. We will.”

The demon kissed his beloved’s forehead.

“I promise,” he whispered, one last time.

He was gone before the angel could think of kissing him back.

Aziraphale sat heavily on the bench, watching the snow.

_ He will be safer. _

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Safer](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29838588) by [Jet_pods (Jetainia)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jetainia/pseuds/Jet_pods)




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